


hands

by auroracalisto



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Female Reader, Kidnapping, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24762409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroracalisto/pseuds/auroracalisto
Summary: For his entire life, Peter had a pink handprint over the top of his palm.  That’s apparently where his soulmate would first touch him—that’s what Aunt May said, anyway.  It was hard to believe it, watching everyone around him find their soulmate throughout school and even now.  He was turning twenty-one in a week.  He had yet to find his soulmate.  Sure, maybe he was just being dramatic, but his heart ached for something.  Someone.  He wanted to have his soulmate.
Relationships: Happy Hogan/May Parker (Spider-Man), Peter Parker/Reader, Spider-Man/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 119





	hands

For his entire life, Peter had a pink handprint over the top of his palm. That’s apparently where his soulmate would first touch him—that’s what Aunt May said, anyway. It was hard to believe it, watching everyone around him find their soulmate throughout school and even now. He was turning twenty-one in a week. He had yet to find his soulmate. Sure, maybe he was just being dramatic, but his heart ached for something. Someone. He wanted to have his soulmate. 

Tony had Pepper. Steve had Bucky. Wanda had Vision. Natasha had Bruce. It was like everyone he knew had someone. Hell, May’s soulmate was Happy, of all people. She didn’t seem very happy about that, and of course, you could say that you didn’t want your soulmate, as long as you fell for someone and they accepted you in return. Sometimes, Peter wondered if that’s what happened. Did his soulmate do that? If they had, his mark would turn black—but it was still pink. 

He could only wonder who his soulmate was. 

* * *

“Get in the fucking van,” a man roughly shoved a girl into the back of a white van—not sketchy, nope, not at all. This girl was unfortunately you. 

In a moment of pure adrenaline, you had managed to kick him where the sun doesn’t shine, but there was another man who wrapped his arms around your waist and pull you into the car so the other could slam the doors shut and lock it. 

“What the hell—” You tried to get loose, but to no avail. Your heart was pounding out of your ears. You were a safe person. You never did anything wrong—why the hell was this happening to you?

“Shut the fuck up,” the man, who you had kicked, snapped from the front of the van. “Tie her and gag her. She’s fucking annoying.”

* * *

Most of the day went by in a blur. You remembered getting hit upside the head—maybe that’s why your temple was now throbbing. But all you knew now is that you were tied to a chair, leaned up against the railing of what seemed to be a skyscraper. You still had no idea why you were here; however, it soon became obvious that you were just a random citizen that was being used as bait to lure any superhero who wanted to save you to the premises. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to imagine the soulmate mark on your hand. It was red. In times of uncertainty, looking at it was your only comfort. And now, you couldn’t even do that. 

One of the men who had taken you captive came over and untied your feet from the chair and lifted you, shoving you against the railing. You groaned out of pain, glaring at the man. 

“What the fuck are you doing? Watch it—”

“Shut up,” he scowled at you. He was starting to wish their captive was anyone but you—you didn’t shut up when provoked. He pushed you back into the railing, the metal digging into your back. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. 

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice called from a couple of feet away from you. “Got a little busy.”

You knew that voice from anywhere. Spider-man. 

The man who held you only smirked. “Good. Our boss needs to talk to you. Figured we could make you talk,” he said, pulling out a knife and holding it to your gut. 

Your eyes shot open and you looked at the man in disbelief. This was all for a fucking conversation?

“She doesn’t need to be hurt,” Spider-man quickly said. He held up his hands. “I’ll talk to him. She’s just a civilian—”

“Who would squeal if she goes to the police. Not likely, Spidey,” the other guy scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He went to take a step forward but something sticky suddenly caused him to stop. He was stuck with whatever the hell the Spider-man shot at him—web? 

_Are you serious? Web?_ No wonder he was called Spider-man. 

The man who held you reacted almost instantaneously and in an attempt to help his partner, he shoved you completely over the railing and ran over to the other man, only to be stopped by the web as well. 

You, on the other hand, let out a scream and your hands flailed, trying to catch anything when the man dressed in red quickly appeared and grabbed onto your hand. 

The two of you felt the sparks—literally. Your hands burned momentarily, and you could only assume that the two of you were soulmates. But that’s a conversation for another time. 

“Get me up, get me up,” you cried, gripping onto his hand. You quickly brought your other hand up, grabbing onto his other hand as he carefully lifted you back over the railing. As soon as you were on the concrete, you impulsively gave him a tight hug. 

You wouldn’t know it, but Peter was furiously blushing beneath his mask. 


End file.
